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heath mcnease - thought police (room 101) lyrics

[intro]
yo, it’s that chet atkins stuff
it’s that grand ole opry, ryman auditorium stuff
yo, yeah

[verse 1]
on the gallows like a scarlet letter monster
fight to keep my name until i twitch like mr. procter
youthful indiscretion, blink once and it cost ya
the stones they throw to cause the kink up in the posture
this ain’t the sinners in the hands of angry god
but this is pistols in the hands of angry mobs
and lit torches for the villagers and shock
and gavel courses for the court that’s living false
but don’t bow to it
powdered wigs and an outfit
doesn’t mean i owe you an ounce
you were wicked without it
and we will denounce you like the witches you ousted
every wish you just doused it
like this is your auschwitz
but the victims are valiant and listed by thousands
and you’re addicted to power
how’d you [?] the balance
and love is blind
when the fiction is absent
why can’t the sins of the father just sit in the ashes?

[hook]
so tie your pretty little noose a bit tighter
i can’t remember when this town was so excited
and every surrounding county’s invited
we kick the box and watch the crowd go silent
while we sipping on that old ultra-violence
the judge, jury, and executioner’s finest
they call it family entertainment
gallows play defendant and shallowness is plaintiff

[verse 2]
paging comrade smith
tell me why you love this double dutch myth
cause big brother saw the subtler binge
and it’s nine doubleplusgood  he’s doubleplus p-ssed
the proletariat buries the [?]
[?] the various badges to merit [?] stabbin’ the cleric
[aryan?] havoc that ravaged the parish
and there was barely a lavender tear of air in the baron’s terrace
and it’s for adam
and every adam after him  and every mary magdelene
impaired by stares and [battle wounds?]
and lands in shattered gl-ss and rose of sharon activists
rose black scattered, battered, torn and tattered after it
and i’m as hester prynne as it gets
i’m as guilty and frickin’ filthy as the crucible is
they say don’t even get him started
a pretty model little martyr for your little daughters

- heath mcnease lyrics

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